


As You Wish

by Brumeier



Series: Monster Fest [5]
Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Community: ushobwri, Djinni & Genies, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, First Meetings, M/M, Male Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-02
Updated: 2014-11-02
Packaged: 2018-02-23 19:55:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2553596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brumeier/pseuds/Brumeier
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Steve comes back to Hawaii to find the man who killed his father he finds much more when he stumbles across a mysterious bottle on the beach.</p>
            </blockquote>





	As You Wish

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Myths & Legends week of Monster Fest at the [You Should Be Writing](http://ushobwri.livejournal.com/) community on LJ. It was the last week of Monster Fest until maybe next year, which is good because I have challenges I need to get to. LOL!

[ ](http://s229.photobucket.com/user/mommybruno/media/Title%20Cards/AsYouWish.jpg.html)

_Djinni portrayed by model Omar Borkan Al Gala_

* * *

Hawaii is for lovers, or so they say. The stretch of beach that fronted the Kahala Hotel was postcard-perfect – full moon lending everything a silvery glow, gently lapping waves, and the sweet smell of Bougainvillea and salt water carried on the warm breeze. The ambiance was mostly lost on Steve McGarrett, who wandered down the shoreline in bare feet and rolled cargo pants, sea water swirling around his ankles.

It was well past two in the morning and even the most dedicated lovebirds had called it a night. Steve had the beach to himself, which was fine. He was too keyed up to sleep, too full of anxious trepidation for what tomorrow would bring.

The last two days had taxed his emotional endurance: the attack on the prisoner transport and then exchanging final words with his father before Victor Hess murdered him, which Steve had been forced to hear over the phone. He’d called in several markers to get back to Hawaii as quickly as possible, only to have Governor Jameson waiting for him with an offer he’d flatly refused. Steve was only back long enough to get justice for his father, which meant that tomorrow he’d have to return to his childhood home, now a crime scene, and see the physical evidence of his father’s death.

“Son of a bitch!” Steve hopped on one foot, hissing through his teeth. He’d mashed his toes against something that was mostly buried in the sand. Once he’d gingerly set his injured foot back down he tugged the object out of the wet sand. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

It was a bottle, the kind with a round bowl at the bottom and a long, narrow neck. Even with the bright light coming from the moon it was difficult to discern the full sand-crusted pattern except to say that it was intricately painted with jewel-toned colors and what might have been gold leaf. Steve had seen bottles like it in the Middle East and it looked like the real deal. How did it end up buried in the sand on Oahu?

Steve scanned the immediate area to see if there was anything else washed ashore that shouldn’t be, but he didn’t see anything. He turned his attention back to the bottle. Maybe someone cast it out with a message inside, which some people thought was a romantic gesture; it was a waste of a good bottle, especially one as nice as this. He wiped more of the wet sand off, turning it in his hands. Something shifted inside.

“What are you hiding?” Steve murmured to himself. He gave the stopper a tug but it was stuck in there pretty tight. He ran his thumbnail along the seam to check for a wax seal but there was none. Brute force, then. Steve planted his feet and gave the stopper a real pull this time; it came out with an audible pop.

Smoke immediately began pouring out of the bottle, red and smelling of exotic spices that reminded him of a bazaar he once visited in Morocco. He dropped the bottle and backed off, assuming a defensive pose as the smoke coalesced and solidified.

It took about thirty seconds for the smoke to form a vague shape and then completely dissipate, leaving behind a man. It was one hell of a trick and Steve’s mind raced to find an explanation, the logic behind the illusion, but nothing was forthcoming.

“Ah! The Islands! Wonderful!” The man was young, Steve estimated him to be in his mid-twenties, with strong Arabic features and neatly trimmed facial hair. He wore a shemagh on his head and a slate blue kameez trimmed in gold rivets and delicate embroidery. It was the kind of tunic-and-trousers ensemble that Steve was familiar with from his time in Afghanistan and Pakistan.

“Who are you?” Steve asked. He didn’t see an obvious weapon, which didn’t mean there wasn’t one. 

“You may call me Shay.” He gave Steve an obvious once-over, a wide grin on his face. “And look at you. Very pleasing. You will have no need of virility, this much is obvious.”

Steve didn’t react to the insinuation or the sexy cadence of Shay’s voice. It wasn’t the first time another man had expressed interest in him, though it had been a while since it had been done so openly; his very few Navy hookups had been extremely circumspect in all regards. 

“How’d you do that? With the smoke?”

“Parlor tricks.” Shay waved his hand, sleeve shifting to show off one delicate wrist. “You have a military bearing. Are you a soldier?”

“Navy SEAL,” Steve replied, still full of pride when he said the words. Despite the sometimes terrible things he’d done and seen since becoming a SEAL all those years ago he’d never regretted serving his country.

“You must look positively edible in uniform.”

Steve rolled his shoulders and let most of the tension bleed out of his limbs. This guy was strange, and undeniably exotic, but the only vibe coming off of him was lustful and Steve had learned to trust his gut when it came to things like that.

“So the bottle belongs to you?” he asked. “It looks valuable.” Although the bottle in question seemed to have vanished with the smoke; Steve hoped it hadn’t been pulled back out to sea.

“Yes. My bottle. My extravagant prison. But you do not want to hear of such things.” Shay stepped closer, his eyes bright, liquid pools in the moonlight. “What is your name, Navy man?”

“Commander Steven McGarrett.”

“Very nice. And what is it you most desire, Steven? Wealth? Power?” Shay’s voice dropped down to a velvety purr. “Physical pleasures unlike any you have known?”

Steve felt himself flushing and decided it was nothing more than embarrassment at the obvious flirtation. “Are you soliciting me? You do know that’s illegal.”

“Where I come from it is encouraged.” Shay moved closer still, until Steve could smell the same spicy scent rising off his skin that had been carried in the smoke. “Alas, I am not permitted carnal pleasures.”

“Permitted by who?”

Another dismissive hand wave. “Shall we walk? I would relish the opportunity to stretch my legs.”

“Uh, sure.” Steve knew he should just turn and walk away. The smoke and bottle thing was weird, admittedly, though for all that Shay seemed pretty harmless. Sure, Steve found the other man incredibly attractive, and the obvious reciprocity of that was flattering and exciting, but there was something else at work; he felt an almost magnetic pull towards Shay. Maybe he could just put it off as being overtired and having nothing better to do in the middle of the night.

“Tell me, Steven, what is your fondest desire?” Shay walked with a regal bearing, hands clasped behind his back. Steve made an effort not to slouch.

“To get some sleep,” he replied honestly.

“That is easily remedied and not worthy of my abilities. If you could have one thing right now, what would it be?”

“Only one thing?” Steve shoved his hands in his pockets to hide that they were tightly fisted. “I want my father back.”

Shay made a noise that somehow conveyed sympathy without using any actual words. “Alas, it is not within the realm of my power to raise the dead. I hope you understand. It is forbidden.”

Steve shrugged. It wasn’t like he was expecting his father to miraculously appear on the beach without half his head blown away; this was real life, not some fairytale. But voicing that wish made him realize how much he missed John McGarrett, and how very much he regretted not trying harder to have a relationship with him.

“Your father. His death was unexpected?”

“You could say that. He was murdered.” He could still hear that gunshot echoing in his head on a loop. It was the sound of failure.

Shay stopped walking so abruptly that Steve nearly bounced off him. The moonlight reflected out of the other man’s eyes like a visible wave of sorrow.

“You bear the weight of misplaced guilt. It is a burden you should set down, my friend.”

“It’s not that easy. Maybe…maybe once I find the men responsible –”

“Ah! There it is!” Shay beamed at him. “Your fondest desire.”

“I don’t know why I’m telling you any of this,” Steve admitted, confused. It wasn’t like him to talk so openly about himself, not even to the Navy shrinks.

“Like all men you cannot turn from the wishes when they are offered.”

“What wishes?” Even as he asked Steve recalled the smoke pouring out of the bottle and seemingly producing the exotic stranger in front of him who seemed to have taken a personal interest in Steve’s life.

“You are well-traveled, Commander, yes? Surely you have heard the legends of the Djinn.”

“Stories,” Steve said dismissively. His gut was saying otherwise but that was too far-fetched to be true.

“Are not many stories based in fact?” Shay winked at him and then vanished in a swirl of red smoke right before Steve’s eyes.

He stood there for a second with his mouth hanging open, until he felt a hand on his shoulder. Reacting purely on instinct Steve grabbed that wrist and spun around, but the solid flesh under his hand dissipated. Shay reformed at a safe distance looking incredibly pleased with himself.

“As you see, I was telling the truth.”

“You’re a Djinni.” It was hard for Steve to ignore such blatant evidence, even though he desperately wanted to. He’d seen a lot of strange things in a lot of out-of-the-way places, but nothing like this. Not even close.

“Tonight I am _your_ Djinni,” Shay said.

Anger welled up as Steve considered an alternate explanation for the ease with which he was opening up to Shay. “Are you using magic on me to get me to talk?”

“Would it surprise you to know, Commander, that humans have a very difficult time expressing even their most deeply-held desires?” Shay edged closer. “So afraid of judgment, so ashamed of what lives in your heart. It is the nature of the Djinn to facilitate an open dialogue.”

“So you’re manipulating me,” Steve snapped. 

“I am doing no such thing.” The Djinni’s eyes flashed red, and Steve took a step back. “If you do not want my assistance you need only say so. There are plenty of others who would willingly accept your wishes.”

His voice had gone steely and the lines of his face changed subtly, though Steve wasn’t so sure it wasn’t just a trick of the light. He reminded himself that the man in front of him wasn’t a man at all and maybe he shouldn’t be so quick to piss him off.

“So, what? You grant me three wishes?”

“Three chances to improve your life,” Shay corrected. His eyes faded back to brown. “I will help you identify your heart’s truest desires. We now know one – you wish to exact vengeance on the men who killed your father. It is a worthy desire.”

“And I’m expected to believe you can deliver on that?” Steve desperately wanted it to be true. Having assurances that he wouldn’t fail his father this time would go a long way towards easing his mind.

“Believe it or do not, it will not change the outcome. Here, let us sit.” Shay swept one arm out in a graceful arc and two cushioned arm chairs with matching ottomans appeared out of nowhere. He sat down with a pleased noise and Steve reluctantly joined him. It was a ridiculously comfortable chair.

“So now what?”

“We identify the final two desires and I make them a reality for you.”

“And then you vanish again?” 

Shay nodded. “Yes. I will return to the bottle until I am needed elsewhere.”

Steve wasn’t sure but he thought he detected a hint of wistfulness in Shay’s voice. He felt his earlier anger bleed into something more sympathetic. “That’s all you do? Hang out in the bottle until someone needs wishes?”

“It is the nature of the Djinn, though not all of my brethren are as dedicated to helping as I.” Shay conjured them each a piña colada accented with skewers of fresh fruit and little paper umbrellas. Steve gave a little start of surprise when the glass appeared in his hand.

“I do so love the Islands,” Shay said after sipping at his drink. “Will you be staying here?”

“Once I close the case I’ll be gone,” Steve replied, and even he could hear the reluctance in his voice. “I’m active duty.”

“You grew up here?”

“Yeah. It’s a great place to be a kid. I practically lived on the beach.”

“You would stay, if you could.” Shay nodded. “Yet you have no ties here now.”

“No. I don’t.” Steve downed half of his piña colada in one go. He didn’t need the reminder that the only family he had left in Hawaii was dead, which made him and his sister orphans. _I love you son._

Shay hummed. “You need someone to tie you here. Do you have anyone in your life? Someone you love? A man of your obvious attributes must not spend much time alone.”

The conversation was taking a turn Steve didn’t like. He’d already revealed too much of himself to Shay, and discussing his love life was a particular minefield. He and Catherine were operating on a friends-with-benefits system, which was infrequent thanks to conflicting schedules and deployments. When they did get together things were easy and uncomplicated between them.

His feelings for Freddie, who’d been killed recently on a mission gone very, very wrong, were much more complex; particularly since Freddie had been happily married and had never displayed any outward signs that he thought of Steve as anything but a friend and team leader. Steve had tried hard not to think about him, not to let himself feel that grief, but now he could feel it nudging at him.

“Your silence tells the story,” Shay said. “And it is a very sad tale, my friend.”

“I’m doing fine,” Steve replied defensively.

“Not now. But you soon will be.” Shay clapped his hands and the chairs and glasses vanished. Steve found himself once more on his feet with Shay standing a bit too close for comfort. “Your wishes are granted, Commander Steven McGarrett.”

Steve waited but there was no clap of thunder, no Victor Hess bound at his feet, nothing at all to indicate that his life was about to improve. “I expected more fanfare.”

“If it is fanfare you desire then you shall have it.” Shay caressed the side of Steve’s face with the back of one hand, the glide of skin against skin flooding Steve’s system with instant heat.

“Are you using more magic on me?” Steve asked, a bit more breathlessly than he liked. He wanted nothing more than to lean into that gentle touch but he wasn’t sure he could trust the way he was feeling.

The caressing hand on his face became a vice clamped painfully around his jaw. Steve’s eyes popped open – he didn’t remember even closing them – and met Shay’s stormy gaze.

“I have no need of Djinn powers in this. It is impossible to make you desire me in any way, unless that is what is natural to you. Do you understand?”

Steve jerked his head out of Shay’s grasp. He wasn’t comfortable being dominated that way, particularly by a virtual stranger, but he’d received the message. He fisted one hand in the front of Shay’s kameez and yanked him forward, mashing their lips together. There was no one reason that this was a good idea, but everything taken together – his grief, his anger, his nostalgia at being back home after so long, his loneliness – formed a perfect storm of need that Shay seemed intent on satisfying.

The Djinni tasted of cinnamon, which made Steve’s whole mouth tingle. He chased that spicy flavor, tongue sweeping through Shay’s mouth. It was a heady experience, kissing right out in the open, and Steve’s head was starting to spin. He was able to stay in the moment until Shay’s hands found their way up under Steve’s shirt, his palms impossibly hot against Steve’s skin.

“This isn’t me,” Steve gasped, pulling back. 

“It is the you that lives here.” Shay withdrew one hand from under the shirt and pressed it over Steve’s heart. “Being with me is without consequence. Deep down you know that.”

“But if someone sees us –” Steve started to say, but the sudden snap of fabric had him turning quickly on his heel. A Bedouin tent had materialized behind him, blue and red and yellow walls flapping in the warm breeze.

“We will be unseen.”

“Pretty sure someone might see the big tent on the beach.”

Shay gave what could only be described as an indulgent grin. “Do you think I cannot make us invisible to prying eyes?” He licked his bottom lip, then turned and walked away, ducking beneath one of the flaps and disappearing into the shadows within. 

Steve hesitated to follow. What was he doing? Was he really considering having sex with someone he just met? Someone not even human? Yet he trusted that what Shay said was true – no-one would see them, no-one would know. And he really wanted this. 

Deciding, just this once, to do something for himself, Steve walked purposefully to the tent and slipped inside.

*o*o*o*

Steve woke sated and more relaxed than he’d been in a long while. He didn’t know how much time had passed, though he wouldn’t be surprised if the tent Shay conjured existed out of time somehow. Shay had pampered Steve with sensual massage, and he could still feel the warm oils in skin. He was pleasantly sore and, more importantly, his head was filled with the hum of white noise; he knew it wouldn’t last long but he’d enjoy it while he could.

Shay shifted against him, his leg thrown over Steve’s and his deft fingers drawing random shapes on Steve’s chest.

“That was sufficient fanfare, my friend?” Shay asked, teasing.

Steve stretched like a cat. “Sufficient is hardly the word I’d use. I thought you weren’t permitted to do any of the things we just did.”

“Some rules are merely guidelines. It has been a very long time since I have had the opportunity to indulge myself.” Shay had a smirk on his face but Steve could hear something more beneath the words. He hadn’t considered that a Djinni’s life might be lonely, but now it didn’t seem anything but. Trapped in a bottle and only called forth to grant wishes for others.

Impulsively Steve leaned over and kissed Shay, soft and sweet with none of the heat they’d shared hours earlier. “I should’ve saved a wish for you.”

Shay shook his head, fond affection shining out of his eyes. “It is not for you, Steven, though I do appreciate the sentiment. Your destiny lies elsewhere, with the rising of the sun.”

“How will I know?”

“You will find I have been very efficient, under the circumstances. Your heart’s desires will be met by one man.”

Steve frowned. “One guy is going to do everything you promised? Who is he?”

Shay shook his head. “Ah, ah. That would be telling. You need only know this: you will know him by the inverted shield.”

“What does _that_ mean?” Steve reached out but Shay was turning incorporeal, red smoke swirling up from his feet and winding around him like a wispy snake. “Wait!”

“Good luck, my friend,” Shay said with a grin before he disappeared completely. For just a moment Steve was still inside the tent, naked and prone, and then the next he was back on the beach fully dressed as if none of it had ever happened.

“Dammit!” he cursed. One man was supposed to be the answer to all his wishes? One man to help find Hess, keep Steve in Hawaii and, what? Be the love of his life? In the absence of Shay it seemed impossible, despite everything Steve had seen. Well, that was fine. Steve was accustomed to doing things on his own, and getting justice for his father would be no different.

His mind filled once again with everything he had to do, everything he had to bear, and Steve headed back up to the hotel. Tomorrow was going to be a long and emotionally draining day and he’d need all the sleep he could get. By his watch only an hour had passed, though he felt like he’d been out on that beach with Shay much, much longer.

Steve briefly wondered if he hadn’t dreamed up the Djinni, had some kind of fugue while he was out walking, but there were internal twinges that said otherwise. He could still feel Shay’s hands on him, smell him against his skin. It was almost enough to get his fatigued cock interested and he forcefully pushed all thoughts of Shay down deep.

His life was complicated enough already.

*o*o*o*

_It’s all about the key, I just don’t know what it’s for._

Steve barely registered his father’s words on the tape recorder. He’d been sickened by the mess inside his father’s house, and saddened by the situation in general, but now he was confused. Clearly John had been on to something, whether or not his paranoia was justified, and maybe his murder wasn’t as clear-cut as Steve had originally thought.

A noise from the house had Steve hastily returning both the key and the tape recorder to the Champ box and closing it back up so that it once more resembled an innocuous toolbox. The noise turned out to be a stocky blonde man with a gun and Steve pulled his in response; given the state of things he wasn’t about to let his guard down.

“You! Hands up! Don’t move!” The guy was wearing a button-down shirt and a tie, which more than his East coast accent told Steve he wasn’t a local.

“Who are you?”

“Who are _you_? I am Detective Danny Williams.”

Detective? He must be the haole Chin had mentioned. “Lt. Commander Steven McGarrett, this is my father’s house.”

“Put your weapon down right now!” Williams said, talking right over Steve. 

“No,” Steve said as calmly as he could. “You put your weapon down! Show me your ID.”

“You show me _your_ ID right now!”

If nothing else this guy was stubborn and tenacious, both of which could be good things when leading an investigation. But Steve didn’t appreciate having a gun pointed at him in his own father’s house, and he didn’t appreciate some outsider coming in to handle things. He was prepared to be just as stubborn.

“I’m not putting my gun down.”

“Neither am I,” Williams shot back.

Steve couldn’t be sure this guy wasn’t a cop, which was the only thing that kept him from putting a bullet through his leg and dropping him. It was ridiculous, having a Mexican stand-off here in the garage.

“Use your free hand, take out your ID.” He used his team leader tone, which usually brooked no arguments. In this case, though, he got a flash of a smirk.

“Please, after you.”

It took everything Steve had not to grind his teeth together. “At the same time?”

“At the _same time_?”

“Yeah, at the same time.”

Williams studied him for a long moment, and Steve could see shrewd intelligence behind his blue eyes. “What, like on the count of three?”

“Sure,” Steve said easily. “Okay. Three’s good.”

The detective did a very slow three count, and Steve mirrored his movements as he took one hand off his weapon and slowly reached around to pull out his ID. Steve flashed his ID, and then all the air went out of the garage when Williams displayed his. With the badge upside down.

_You will know him by the inverted shield._

Everything Shay said the night before flooded back in Technicolor and surround-sound. Steve took a closer look at the detective, trying to see below the surface, trying to see all the things that he’d been promised. But maybe…maybe some things had to be taken on faith.

“You know what?” he said with a grin, holstering his weapon. “I think we’re gonna get along great.”

**Author's Note:**

>  **AN:** I wasn’t sure what I was going to do for this one, and then I thought about how much Danny changed Steve’s life for the better, almost like it was designed that way. Enter the Djinni! 
> 
> I had a lot of fun writing Shay, who of course finds Steve just as sexy as everyone else does. ::grins:: I was so lucky to find such a wonderful stand-in for him in model Omar Borkan Al Gala. Or was it luck? ::winks::
> 
> Special thanks to Taste_is_Sweet for her invaluable help and her assertion that Shay and Steve really needed to rock the Kasbah. ::grins:: You’re a terrible influence! Sorry I couldn’t give you that scene in all its porny goodness, I tried, but it just wasn’t working.


End file.
